deepundergroundpoetry.com

Blows up

this is just a thought before i depart the floor,
this isn't art no more,
that's back in department four,
 this is obsession type,
 yakking off just for spite,
turning my left to right,
 till nothings left to write,
 and i get a chance to bite,
 some lemon dipped in sprite,
maybe ill take the time,
left over to smash my mind,
 with hammers wrapped in lime,
trying to detach my spine,
send it to that odder space,
 where the clouds shine their rays
 but its never outta place,
 cause the sun pours rain
on its droughted days,
 where you can't go yourselves
 but you can follow me,
 to where the hills are so deep
that they could swallow three,
 city blocks and some potted meat,
where the diamonds and jewels are cheap,
 but if you want to buy an apple
 they're a thousand each,
 and i can show you where,
you'll see millions of people
 and they'll know your there,
and afterwards
 i'll take you out to where they grow the air,
and introduce you to the people that sew the trees, into the ground where they stand
 cause we all know they'll leave,
alone and die without noone to feed,
them and it's so sad to see,
 so to keep them here
its like were doing a good deed,
but lets go see the grandest canyons
  that reach past the stars,
where the fish swim the clouds
 where the blackness starts,
and it causes such a ruckuss
 that the cats'll bark,
the crowd will start to cheer,
and all the other creatures that were far come near, come pet the three eyed toad,
and fight the five toed steer,
and see the moon face monkey
with his face on his rear,
but be sure that you tread with no fear,
 and you show no alarm,
 just remember your with me
 and we'll show you no harm,
  times running out now,
hurry up and come on,
be brave when you see it,
 and remember stay calm,
 here we are now
 we reached it,
the bomb you'll help me disarm.
Written by beanbandit (David Gonzales)
Published | Edited 28th Jul 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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